


The Talk to Me project: Deleted Flashback #1

by destielpasta, mtothedestiel



Series: The Talk to Me Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Flashbacks, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 07:42:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielpasta/pseuds/destielpasta, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtothedestiel/pseuds/mtothedestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their awkward moment in the Men of Letters Library, Dean tried to help Cas memorize phone numbers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Talk to Me project: Deleted Flashback #1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for The Talk to Me Project Below! 
> 
>  
> 
> This flashback didn't make it into the original cut of the story due to timing and our desire to tell a more linear story. However, I wanted to post it after the fact because it gives more information on why Castiel ended up hitting the road in the first place. This takes place four days before Cas takes off and a few days after him and Dean kissed in the Men of Letters Library. It also explains why Castiel was able to remember Kevin's number on the fly when Dean was hurt.

**June 18, 2013: The Headquarters of the Men of Letters**

Castiel started to sleep. A lot.

Probably much more than any normal human. The twist of shame in his belly grew intolerable, and staying unconscious for as many hours of the day as possible seemed to be the best remedy. He emerged to eat and was greeted with a few worried glances. Silence dominated.

Sam began to vomit regularly again and complained of migraines. Kevin grew sullen and spent more and more of his time with the tablet and a bottle of Mr. Boston. Dean made meals and made jokes but wouldn’t meet Cas’s eyes. So Cas kept his eyes closed.

His room was dark and cool. He slung an arm over his eyes, pressing down until he saw small stars. He rarely turned the lamp on, preferring the walls to be without shadows that danced and haunted him without his permission. He had already slept most of the day away and couldn’t drift off again, even though it was technically evening now.

He was striving to keep his thoughts neutral when he heard a soft knock at the door.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice. “Can I come in?”

Castiel sat up, his heart betraying him by speeding up. “Of course,” he called to the door, surprised at the even tone he produced. Switching on his lamp, he grabbed a pair of pajama pants from the floor and slipped them on over his boxers as Dean slowly opened the door.

He remained in the door as Cas tied the drawstring. “Don’t get dressed up on my account.”

Cas shrugged, sitting back down on the bed. “What do you need, Dean?”

“Right, well,” Dean sighed, looking around the room and swinging his arm slightly, “I need you to do something for me. It would- It’ll help my peace of mind a lot.”

Cas lowered his eyes, unwilling to disappoint Dean even in their tense state. Dean carried a pad of yellow paper and a pen. “What is it?”

“You know how your cell phone gives you a contact list and all you have to do it press one button and you can call us?”

Cas nodded. “Of course.”

“Yeah it’s bullshit.” He pulled up a chair next to Cas’s bed and sat down, “You should have to memorize numbers, that way if you lose your cell, or it dies on the road or something you’ll still be able to call someone to get help.”

“What would you have me do about it?”

Dean quirked a small smile and clicked his pen open. “You’re gonna memorize the numbers. Right now.”

“Dean,” he sighed, “It’s almost midnight, this is far from productive—“

“Are you kidding?” Dean waved his pen-less hand around the room. “First of all, you’ve been sleeping all day, and second of all, this is something that could save your life when we get back out on the road.”

Cas shook his head, but relented. “You’re right, of course. How shall we do it? Human memory is so flawed.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, we manage somehow.” He flipped to a fresh piece of paper. “Let’s start with Sam’s. Aural memory first. Repeat after me. 555-786-4123.”

“555-786-4123.”

“Good. Now repeat it in your head. Then out loud.”

555-786-4123. “555-786-4123.”

“Doin’ good. Now write it five times…”

They continued on for ten minutes with Sam’s number and by the time they finished Castiel was sure he couldn’t forget it even if an angel wiped his memory. Next was Kevin’s, and Castiel breezed through every memorization exercise Dean threw at him.

Finally they got to Dean’s number. Castiel was ready. It was almost like a game. Something he could win. “Alright, repeat after me. 555-091-2850.”

“555-091-2850”

“Now say it in your head then out loud.”

555-091-2850. “555-091-2850.” Easy.

“Good now write it five times.”

Cas scribbled out the numbers with gusto.

“Now say it again. Once in your head, once out loud.”

555-091-2850. “555-091-2—“

Castiel’s mind went blank. 2… what? He had just written it. Just said it in his head. How could he lose three numbers that quickly?

He tried to sneak a glance at the paper but Dean pulled it back, tapping on his own head with his index finger. “Nope. Think. They’re in there.”

Cas nodded and shut his eyes. “555-091-2…27—“

“Wrong!”

“555-091-23—“

“Wrong again, Cas. You’re already dead if you were on a hunt.”

Cas’s eyelid began to twitch. “555-094—“

“Nope! Stop freaking yourself out! Just think Cas! This isn’t rocket science.”

Cas massaged his temples, trying to relax his wrinkled forehead. “Memory doesn’t work well under stress Dean, just calm down—“

“Our lives are stress, Cas, that ain’t gonna change so you better get with it.”

“If you would just give me a moment to think—“

Dean slammed his fist down on the bedside table, making the lamp short out and cutting Cas off. “God dammit Cas! Stop being such a damn girl! Man up for Christ’s sake!”

Dean reddened as soon as the words were out of his mouth. The clock ticking slowly on the wall sounded like gunshots. Castiel narrowed his eyes. “I am not a child, Dean, and I fail to see what being female has to do with memorization capabilities. And unless I’m mistaken, I would think that you would prefer me to be female.”

Dean shook his head. “No, Cas, man that’s not what I meant—“

Cas held up a hand. “I don’t care what you meant, Dean. Right now I would like to sleep. Please leave.”

Dean stared with him for another moment and Castiel refused to be the one to break eye contact. Finally, Dean got up and left without another word, shutting the door softly behind him. Cas could almost hear the muffled “son of a bitch” from the crack under the door.

Calmly, he retrieved the duffel bag Sam had given him from under his bed and wondered if he even had enough possessions to fill it. 


End file.
